The Station of Pure Evil Horribleness
by Celestial Fever
Summary: Terror in a deserted underwater research station. Lucas. Things that go bump in the darkness... COMPLETED! Comes with a free handy synopsis of the story so far.
1. Ch1: getting there

**__**

The Station of Pure Evil Horribleness…

By Celeste

Late 2nd season

Please part your curtains of belief for this mini-horror…

Rated PG-13 for mild violence, increasing creepiness (hopefully), and some rude words.

Round of applause and Jaffa cakes to beta Cadnobach for slapping the old girl into shape, and for Diena who picked out a particularly embarrassing typo. Cheers.

(general disclaimers for all chapters: SeaQuest and her crew are not mine and I haven't made a single penny from this hard graft)

~ ~ ~

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Chapter 1: Getting there

'Can you pass me a class 4 Sable-Clip?' Lucas' muffled request came under the panel.

'What - is that one of these?' Tony passed him piece of circular metal.

'That's a jubilee clip, so no' Lucas muttered pulling out and picking through the box's jumble of bits and pieces himself until he found what he was looking for and disappeared back under the panel.

'Here, I got one for ya Luc' Tony leant under the panel 'Why is it that soggy food goes dry when it's stale, and dry food goes soggy?'

'Because the moisture content in the foodstuff, if not protected by an air-tight barrier, will equalise to the ambient moisture content in the local environment. Why?'

'It's a joke.' Tony replied dryly, straightening up.

Lucas pulled himself out again 'huh? Oh… what's the punch line?' 

'No - that was it'

Lucas looked baffled as he reached for and answered his bleeping PAL 'Yeah?'

'Nice to be greeted with such respect' Bridger said.

'Oh, sorry – how can I help?'

'Could you please come down to the wardroom in five minutes Lucas, I have a situation I need to discuss with you'.

'Sure'. Lucas put his tools back into the box and left Tony stripping wires.

Tim and Lucas sat at the wardroom table as the captain powered up the slide projector and sat before them.

'As you both undoubtedly know, the Nambela-Swales Oceanic Research Station had been built as part of a hugely ambitious inter-continental effort to explore, study and catalogue a corner of the ocean in unprecedented detail. The remit of the station encompassed a broad spectrum of disciplines employing scientists from around the globe'. Tim and Lucas both nodded.

Bridger cycled through a series of images; portly scientists in white coats and beaming faces, the famous Professor Osborne standing proudly by the Nambela-Swales 8-metre high crest, a scale model of the huge station with its series of modules and connecting avenues. 

Bridger continued 'but an unfortunate mixture of a complex hierarchy of authority, muddled data rights and funding hand-outs, and endless acrimonious professional feuding, the spirit of that dream was slowly crushed'.

Newspaper headlines flashed onto the screen; _ANGRY SWISS TEAM BANNED FROM NAMBELA-SWALES _and _MEXICAN MARINE BIOLOGIST CONVICTED OF PLUNDERING RESEARCH GRANT._

'The financial and professional crises escalated at such an alarming rate that within only six and a half years of its inaugural joint project publication, the station was deserted. Instead, it was agreed by all member nations that the station would continue to function in a fully automated state, relaying data upworld to the plethora of research institutes'

Tim and Lucas watched a newsreel of a Nambela-Swales shuttle docking and a group of sour-faced men disembarking, separating without looking back.

Bridger switched off the projector and turned to the two crewmembers. 'Last week, out of the blue, the datastreams have suddenly stopped for the first time in 12 years. Several institutes have run their own tests but without success, so some kind of hardware failure is suspected to be the problem'. 

Lucas rolled his eyes 'Oh wait, let me guess what comes next'.

Bridger raised an eyebrow but ignored him 'As we're passing by on our way to the Azores, we have been asked to make an exploratory trip to see if we can pinpoint what's gone wrong so that the parts can be ordered and installed at a later date'.

'And when you say 'we' you really mean _me_' Lucas interjected.

'No Lucas' Bridger said slightly irritated 'I mean we. And if you go – and that hasn't been finalised yet – you'll either take a team down, or we will be running the assessment scans from here. As a team'. 

'Why wouldn't I go? Who else would have the first idea about how to fix this stuff?' Lucas asked, surprised.

'Well, you would have been only five or six years old when the station was abandoned. It's not as if you'll be familiar with the technology – hardware or software.'

Lucas smirked 'Captain, this gear is ancient – that's makes it easier to check through, not harder.'

'I wouldn't be overly confident young man. If I remember correctly, it was all built to very high intricate specifications.'

'Why can't the systems' designers go look themselves?' Tim asked.

'There were three main systems' architects on the project; Pendergast has since passed away, Delrieu is caught in a high-level project from which she can't be pulled, at least not immediately and the last programmer, Hu Xui, is still suing for infringement of intellectual property rights against the Nambela-Swales project and isn't exactly full of good will. Besides, we're not being asked to fix it, just diagnose the problem'.

'Easy peasy then' Lucas grinned 'just point me to the schematics and I'll be up and running within a week'. 

Bridger looked at Lucas for a moment and then Tim. 'OK, you both work together on this and tell me what your thoughts are and what you might need to get this thing done. We'll meet again on Friday'

~ ~ ~

__

Friday

'The three mainframes and ten data processor slave-clusters will be the only machines that could be broken to cause this kind of disruption. Other possibilities such as the relay transmitters are pinging back 100%, and any synthetic datasets I'm uploading are showing as banked on the systems' storage files' said Lucas enthusiastically waving at several sheets of output information. 

'All the machines are located in this place, the Turbine Hall' he added, pointing to a large square room in the middle of the station's plans 'So I'll scoot in, patch the mainframes through my laptop to run a scan. Any blocks that show up, I'll break it open and take a look…shouldn't take more than a couple of days – tops'.

Nathan nodded 'and your part in this Tim?' he asked his comm tech. 

'Initially we considered additional on-site support, but Lucas' laptop is powerful enough to be able to run the diagnostics. It's seems a good idea though to set up another single transmitter to start-up the data relays again from individual machines but that would need to be reconfigured from here'. Tim showed Bridger some preliminary details for their plan, which the captain took and mulled over.

'I don't know. I'm not happy about you going down there alone, Lucas'. Bridger hesitated, weighing up the alternatives. 'You could take Tony down there'.

'Tony! For what? I _can _look after myself Captain, and in case you'd forgotten, he's dyslexic, so I don't think I could give him a 35 layered re-router plan and let him loose on the guts of a Ibayo 1200BX mainframe. It's not a coincidence he's the most expendable'.

Bridger sighed 'Well OK, not Tony then, but someone from security – I can ask Jim to recommend someone'.

'Seriously captain there's nothing down there but a big empty structure and I'll hardly be actually doing much once I set the tests off, mainly just sitting about. It's a waste of anybody else's time'.

'You don't have to prove yourself here Lucas, it's not a scout badge of endurance'.

'Yeah Captain, I know. Although if you're really worried, you could let me have a gun?' Lucas grinned optimistically at Bridger, but his smile soon fell.

'No way, absolutely not. You've no firearms training and anyway, what do you think you're gonna shoot at – a resident moray eel in the bathroom?'

The three of them talked about various possibilities until Bridger, albeit reluctantly, agreed to send Lucas to go to the station alone, with Tim and an ancillary team of three other techies on standby. They would be keeping in contact with the boy via radio, whilst the seaQuest completed it's Azores directive, meeting and picking him up en-route home.

Two days later Lucas loaded the Stinger's cargo stows with his laptop, spare parts, tools, provisions and a flashlight and set off to the station alone. 

~ ~ ~

The depth of the research station precluded any natural light reaching it and since it's abandonment by human presence 12 years previously, it languished in the murky black ocean. 

Lucas patched through back to seaQuest informing them of his current status.

'ETA 2 minutes; Stinger preparing to dock in Bay 9' 

'Roger that Lucas. Bay 9 automated for docking sequence'.

As Tim relayed the docking commands remotely to the empty station, Lucas watched the lights blaze to life around the portal and piloted the little sub into one of bays of the vast complex. Once docked, he released the Stinger's airlock door and clambered out, into the dark bay. The stale air caught in his throat, causing him to gulp and cough. He heard Tim's voice through the headset. 

'Would you mind putting your hand over your mouth when you do that?'

'Uhm. Sorry. The air is gross in here. I hope it doesn't take long to boot up the air filtration units…' 

Lucas pulled out the powerful flashlight from the cargo stow and swept the bay whilst taking a few more breaths and watching it mist in the cold air. He walked over to the electricity terminus in the corner and tried the light switches, but the room remained in darkness save for the bright white torch beam and the Stinger's proximal lights. 

All life support systems necessary for human habitation, including the internal lighting grid and heating were pulled off line as the station was emptied 12 years ago and first on his list to power back up. 

Lucas returned to the Stinger and removed the contents of the stows onto the bay decks. He pulled on his thick parka coat warding off the biting chill and hoisted the backpack of his laptop, tools, spare parts and food rations on his back and set off – map in one hand and flashlight in the other. 

His footsteps echoed in the huge corridors that fed from the entry ports, like processional avenues to the Grand Atrium. Lucas whistled as he emerged into the cavernous Atrium, the architectural schemes evidently as ambitious and ostentatious as the project itself. Long planes of glass and marble adorned with nautical sculptures in high relief arching overhead and soaring downwards into a black vortex which Lucas' torchlight could not find the culmination. 

'Very cool'. Lucas murmured.

He'd been trying to picture this space when his father had been telling him three day's previously about the station, having spent 6 months here as a research fellow. It didn't even come close to the breathtaking beauty, and Lucas pondered the folly of brilliant men whose arrogance and myopic attitude had caused the downfall of the station. 

'Do you think you're OK to find your way from there Lucas?'

Lucas glanced at the map and panned around shining the torch over the archways and staircases that radiated from this vestibule. The signs were faded but legible. 

'Yeah', he re-assured Tim through the tiny mic on the headset, 'there's been some degradation to the structure but it think it's just superficial'. 

He shook off the increasing sense of cold emptiness and decay that recalled the oppressive ambience of a mausoleum.

Lucas descended from the Galley Level, down a wide staircase, the stairwell encased in dramatic blue opaque glass that sparkled in the beam of his flashlight, and opened the double doors to the second level. He peered into the gloom, and sighed. 

'Jeez, these corridors are _long_. It's going to take me several hours just to get to the damn computer room' he moaned into the mic. 'It'll be time to go home again by the time I get there.'

'Maybe you should run then, that'll warm you up' Tim suggested.

'Tim, this coat is so padded, I can hardly bend my arm round enough to see my watch. In fact, I bet I could throw myself down this corridor and I'd bounce there quicker.'

He trudged the length of the Central Eastern Avenue, pompously entitled Avenue of the New Dawn, towards the nerve centre of the research station; the Turbine Hall. As he progressed through the desolate complex he swung his light beam through the doors into empty dark offices, conference halls and restaurants. 

The air was so cold. Despite the thick coat, Lucas shivered and his fingertips were turning to marshmallows. Tim heard Lucas' teeth chattering and spoke to someone on the bridge followed by Bridger's voice in the headset. 

'How cold is it Lucas? You should put on some more clothes'. 

Lucas predictably groaned and rolled his eyes.

'Don't roll your eyes, hypothermia can be fatal. Wrap up warm - I don't what to have to send in a rescue party to come thaw you out'

Lucas smiled at the captain's paternal tone. 'Yes sir, I'll pull on my thermal vest and underpants as soon as I get to the hall'.

Lucas eventually arrived at the end of the avenue and crossed the perimeter corridor that ran around the Turbine hall, and from which the other main Avenues branched off. He faced a pair of large heavy metallic fire / flood doors, which sealed off the Turbine Hall from the rest of the complex, protecting the mainframe systems from catastrophic disaster. The entry mechanisms were on a separate power source to life support and Lucas flipped open the control panel, punched in the security entry codes and watched as the eastern flood doors opened for the first time in over a decade. 

He shone his torch inside, his beam barely penetrating the space. Once again Lucas was overawed by the sheer scale. Even though he had assessed the plans, nothing prepared him for the magnificence of this control room. He was keenly aware of the silence from the banks of computers that ought to have been humming in the dark. 

Closing the doors behind him, he entered and had to place his arm over his mouth. The air was even more stagnant, and focused his attention to locating and powering up the life support systems. Trying not to cough again into the mic, he set down his backpack, rubbing his sore shoulders.

'Despite earlier predictions, I've made it to the Turbine Hall within the hour. I wish you could see it Tim, it's unbelievably over-complicated. You'd probably be able to get all this hardware into one or two desktops these days…' he trailed off as he walked along the row of dusty dead machines, shining his beam into blank monitors.

'You should make a start on getting the heating on though, before you turn into an icicle-pop' Tim reminded him.

'Good point…and the life support systems are controlled from…here' he said arriving at a large console near the southern flood-door.

Lucas set about unlocking the glass panel fronts and reading the multitude of buttons and dials that covered the desk. As he was planning only on staying in the Turbine Hall before setting back for seaQuest, it would be an extravagant waste bringing life support on-line for the whole complex and so he selected only his immediate environment. He pulled the industrial sized lever to the right of the panel powering up the desk and then flipped the switches for Turbine Hall heating, lighting and air filtration. 

Hundreds of lights flooded the room and the air systems kicked into life, initially belching a cloud of dust into the air, before commencing filtration. 

Lucas wandered along the row upon row of decade old and now technologically obsolete computers, considering the mind-boggling job of having to upgrade all the machines. He approached the western side of the hall making a mental map of the layout and paused at a desk that indicated the project system logs were stored at this slave terminal. 

Glass shattered beyond the closed western flood doors.

Startled, Lucas jumped back reflexively, eyes swivelling round to the door as if he could guess what was behind them. His heart pounded in alarm and adrenaline coursed through his veins at the intrusion in the omnipotent silence.

'Jesus. Did you hear that?' he questioned Tim.

'No, why? What it is?'

'Don't know, something made of glass just smashed outside – are you absolutely certain I'm alone?'

'With no life support on-line, temperatures of 3 degrees Celsius and no fresh water supply, I don't think that makes for a very cosy home'.

Lucas paused and considered the situation 'Maybe the warm air from the heating systems can escape through a leak somewhere west of the halls and dislodged something precariously balanced?' he suggested, trying to convince himself more than Tim.

Tim agreed 'Probably. Can't see what else it could be'.

His fright subsiding, Lucas reproached himself and pulled up a chair at the logs terminal, and once seated, blew into cupped hands to try to warm them up. After a moment, he began to scroll through the last month's data to see if he could discern any pattern to indicate a cause for the system failures.

Engrossed in the tables of information he only belatedly noticed the chill in the air from his right. He glanced up distractedly but his breath caught in his throat.

The Western flood doors were now open.

The Western Avenue was pitch black and Lucas could hardly see further than 10 metres.

He stood up and tentatively approached the doors.

'Hello…?'


	2. Ch2: Lucas gets 'The Fear'

Many thanks to Diena and Teresa for much needed second tier of beta-ing, and cheers to all who reviewed Ch1. I hope you continue to enjoy…

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Chapter 2: Lucas gets 'The Fear'…

His voice echoed unanswered down the corridor and his breath misted in the cold. He cursed his vulnerability and wished Bridger had let him bring a weapon. He typed the codes into the door mechanism and the western doors slid closed once more. 

"You okay there Lucas?" Tim asked, hearing Lucas call out.

"The doors are opening by themselves…". It sounded ridiculous. The last thing he wanted was for Bridger to think he needed his hand being held – that he wasn't up to the job. He almost groaned at the potential humilation of having Bridger turn seaQuest around and send someone down to keep an eye on him because he'd got scared in less than 2 hours.

"Maybe someone's organised a surprise welcome party" Tim joked.

"Yeah? I'll let you know if any nice girls turn up." Lucas hid his anxiety. 

He examined the tool kit before pulling flex and bits of hardware out from his backpack. There was nothing of any real practical use against…what? Automatic doors? A broken vase? He laughed nervously to himself and forced himself to relax, breathe deeply and slowly in the warming air. He had to focus, he wasn't afraid and he could do this. Definitely. Yet this job could take a couple of days and he really wanted to leave sooner rather than later.

He pulled out his laptop and some cabling and returned to the logs terminal and patched them together to begin uploading the log data onto his computer for analysis. 

"Okay, Tim, here comes the first data batch." Lucas began the arduous task of sifting through it and picking out anything relevant, chatting to Tim over the relay regarding anything that struck him as useful. 

Over the following 5 hours they made good progress and the Turbine Hall was starting to feel warm. 

Bridger's voice came over the headset "I think that's enough now Lucas. You should eat something and try and go to sleep for a while". The Captain knew that given half a chance, Lucas would continue without a break and tiredness often led to mistakes.

"I'll treat myself to - oh let me see." Lucas poked around at the ready-to-eat rations in his bag "mmm. Cold meatballs - from some unspecified animal substitute - with cold cabbage and lentil stew. Yum."

Bridger laughed. "I'll save you a piece of tonight's re-constituted ham and mushroom 'bake' for your return if you like"

"Oh joy". Lucas grinned, he could hear the inverted commas. "I'll speak to you at 0730 hours tomorrow. Can you keep this channel open just in case though?"

"Sure. Lt. Patterson will be covering the comms station. Night kiddo."

"Yeah, bye Captain." 

To any normal person his dinner looked like a tub of vomit. Lucas pulled a face but ate most of it, drinking half a carton of orange juice to try to wash away the taste. He looked at his watch and it was barely past midnight and doubtful that he could sleep for anything close to seven hours, so he decided to run once more through the latter part of the logs. 

At nearly 2 in the morning, Lucas yawned and realised the discomfort he was feeling was his bladder about to burst. He even briefly considered pissing into a rubbish bin, but after a pause he sighed and prepared to leave the warmth and light of the Turbine Hall. Lucas pulled on his parka, grabbed the flashlight and looked over the map to locate the nearest bathroom. 

It was located in the Western Avenue. 

He took a deep breath and ignored the sensation of goose bumps that ran over his body. _Come on, what's the problem?_ he asked himself, unused to the feeling of dread that inexplicably bubbled up.

He walked to the doors, typed the codes and the doors slid open once more. Lucas was struck by the freezing cold of the complex beyond the hall and not wanting to let the warm air escape, he stepped through and typed in the codes to seal the room. 

Once shut, Lucas was left in total darkness. He switched on his light and shone it down the avenue which stretched far beyond his beam, and began walking. 

__

What the..? 

Barely a few metres from the door, he froze with the unexpected sound and sensation of the floor crunching beneath his feet. He had stepped into an area strewn with shattered clear glass. Lucas stopped and swung his beam around and surveyed the corridor but couldn't locate from where the glass could have fallen, nor could he guess what the large glass object had been. He walked on, trying to remain calm, shining his torch at the door signs to catch the bathrooms and recognised the names of famous marine scientists, working alongside each other but evidently too proud and vain to work together. 

Lucas pushed open the doors of the gentlemen's toilets and stood over the urinal relieving himself. 

"Aahhhh" He breathed a huge sigh of relief which mushroomed into a cloud around his head. With no water supply he couldn't wash his hands, so he picked up the flashlight and left the bathroom, turning back towards the hall. 

He stopped dead in his tracks. One of the rooms had a light on. 

~ ~ ~

Lucas pushed away the overwhelming sense of foreboding that burned in his stomach like white hot coals. 

__

Had that light been on before? Maybe.

But he knew with absolute certainty it hadn't. He paused rooted to the spot, his mind racing – he had no weapon and no communication back to seaQuest. He strained to hear any noise but the silence continued to envelope him. 

"Anybody there..?" Lucas' voice was almost plaintive, so he tried again louder and with more pretended authority. But there was no response. Breathing fast, he took a faltering step towards the office and the hall. 

__

Faulty lighting grid - it had to be - lights probably come on and off all the time with no one to maintain the systems…

He broke into an awkward run, barely looking into the office before reaching the western flood doors. He tapped in the codes, but in fumbling they didn't work. 

"Shit, no…come on" he said in frustration under his breath.

He forced himself to pause and concentrate and run through the codes again. The doors slid open into the Turbine Hall and he almost tumbled through, turning swiftly to enter the codes to close the doors even before they had fully opened. 

__

Stupid stupid.

Lucas sank to the floor. 

__

There's nothing out there. Moron. Lucas berated himself.

He sat for a few minutes until his heart stopped racing and then walked back to the logs desk, cursing his over-strung alertness which would stop him from sleeping. He glanced at his watch – 02.07am. 

He put on the communication headset and switched it on.

"Patterson, you there?"

"Morning Lucas, you're up early." 

A tsunami of relief washed over him. He wasn't alone. 

"How's things at the station?" Patterson enquired.

"Dark. And cold. Very dark and cold". Lucas paused and pondered what he was trying to say – what could Patterson or the seaQuest do, halfway to Azores by now? About as much as a dolphin in a shoe store. 

Once more he tried to pull himself together. He _was _going to prove to Bridger that if he said he could get a job done, then he could be trusted to do it. 

"Er, just radioing in, nothing to report as such."

"Okay Lucas, Tim will call you at 0730. Over and out."

Lucas removed the headset and sighed, and sat down to start checking the mainframe circuit breakers.

He continued for barely 20 minutes when he heard the sound of glass crunching underfoot outside the western doors. 

He broke out into a clammy sweat. He couldn't tell if it was a person either walking towards or away from the patch of broken glass, so he waited - his breath caught in his throat - for another sound.

None came, but he didn't move a muscle. He sat as still as stone until he wasn't even sure that the noise had been real. Was someone out there? Did they know he was here? 

It would be a better to have some company than be here alone, with crazy paranoid ideas spitting in his exhausted brain. 

Lucas slowly straightened up, pulled on the parka again, and picked up the flashlight.

He stood before the Western flood doors. His hands trembled and he breathed fast. 

__

Know your enemy.

Ignorance is bliss. 

Lucas' hand hovered indecisively over the control panel. 

__

Anything is better than this uncertainty. 

Lucas typed in the code and the doors slid open. 


	3. Descending further into the depths of Ev...

Here finally, pardon for the tardiness – my laptop gnawed it's own head off when I poured a cup of coffee into it, so it's been slow going. 

Many thanks to fantastic beta Teresa for being so patient and not afraid to tell me where I went so, so wrong…

~ ~ ~ 

__

Chapter 3: Descending further into the Depths of Evilness 

Lucas stood on the threshold of the western flood doors, his beam shining down an empty corridor. Silence. 

Fear strangled the breath in his throat, and he couldn't speak. 

The office further down the Western Avenue still had the light on, and after pausing for a brief second, Lucas steeled himself to see if someone was there.

He barely walked a few paces before he paused, swinging his light back towards the Turbine Hall, uncertain whether to continue. He clenched his fists in frustration at his own cowardice. _Move it Wolenczak. _He took a deep, shaky breath and started again for the office. 

Standing outside the door, nothing could be seen through the frosted glass window. He tried to listen, but heard nothing except his own panicked breaths.

The frozen door handle screeched as he twisted it, and Lucas jumped.

He slowly swung open the door, peering cautiously through the opening; Damp, decaying walls, a bare light-bulb, a chair, a hand.

A face.

Lucas didn't move anymore, stunned that someone _was _here. But there was no movement; the person didn't rise from the chair or speak.

Lucas pushed the door further but then cried out in horror - he recognised the mask-like face of a missing scientist, mouth gaping in a frozen grimace of fear, eyes glazed wide. 

He doesn't notice the papers torn and scattered around the dead man. 

He doesn't notice the 10 key hooks; nine with bunches of keys and one empty.

All he sees is the terror-stricken face and bloody torso of Dr Kimashoto, dead and bound to a chair in the centre of an empty office. 

Lucas put his hand over his mouth, petrified and bewildered, legs weak and blood roaring in his ears.

Hot breath ghosted on Lucas's neck, and something moved in his peripheral vision. 

He swung around.

A man, short and pale stood beside him, his face close to Lucas's. "Strangers mourning with ice-tinged tongues never feeling the halting breath escape" the stranger rasped. "Yet do they consent to purposeful capture?"

Lucas yelled out in shock and stumbled back, hitting the doorframe, moving sideways and back into the corridor as the man watched with an inscrutable expression. 

They stood facing one another in silence for only a second before Lucas turned to run, but as he turned the man barrelled into him. They both went over, Lucas cried out in surprise cut short by landing hard on his back, the flashlight spinning and clattering against the wall. His head connected forcefully with the marble floor and Lucas' eyes rolled back with shock at the pain. The man lay over him, his face very close: "Eggshells underfoot tell of a faltering heart or a boxing bullish head. Which is it to be?"

Lucas, dazed and winded, ignored the riddle. 

"Get off me" he whispered. He was deeply afraid. 

This person was clearly deranged, and much stronger than he was. The man twisted up and knelt on Lucas' wrists and forearms, straddling his torso. Lucas tried to push him over, but it was futile. 

"So, little wire tailor – how wholesome are we?"

As the man knelt over and began unzipping the parka, Lucas cried out louder. "Leave me alone, let me go!" and tried to slip under. 

The man's cold fingers casually swept over Lucas' collarbone and upper chest under his top, and drew lazy lines around his pale throat and over his lips. Lucas' skin shivered at the contact and he clenched his jaw in an effort to quell the scream coiled in his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength and mind ready for flight.

After a moment, the man lent over as if to whisper in his ear and Lucas swiftly drew up both his knees. Unbalanced, the man grunted and toppled forward, giving Lucas the chance to stumble to his feet. His eyes swept the floor for the flashlight, and lunged at it as the man's fingers gripped his ankle. Without pausing Lucas clenched the large light and swung it back, and connected with the man's shoulder and the man cursed, but released his grip.

In pain and shock, Lucas struggled to re-orientate himself. The man pulled himself up, standing aggressively between Lucas and the Western flood doors of the Turbine Hall. 

"What the hell do you want with me?" Lucas yelled, gripped by panic. "If I go missing or they find me dead, the UEO will fry you alive…" but a few steps away, the man dismissed Lucas' threat. 

As the man raised a clenched fist, Lucas grasped the flashlight with both hands and tried to deflect the attack, adrenaline giving him strength. The lightbeam arced in the dark. 

Taken by surprise the man was knocked hard on the side of his face, swayed and crumpled to the floor. Horrified, Lucas shone the light on the man – he was still, but breathing.

This sucked.

He ran back towards the light of the Turbine Hall, and once there, tapped in the codes that sealed the doors with shaking fingers. Undoubtedly the man knew the codes and would return soon enough, so he was not safe here. He snatched up the headset.

"Patterson, this is Lucas do you copy?"

Static came in response.

"SeaQuest, do you copy?" Panic overwhelmed him.

"CAPTAIN?" 

Where the hell were they? 

This time there was no-one. 

Drained and afraid, Lucas felt himself slip towards hysteria. He clasped his hands over his mouth to quell the nausea, and breathed deeply through his nose.

__

Let's go, let's go, let's go. His mind span in an effort to think what he needed to do.

He threw the contents of his backpack on the hall floor and placed his laptop inside before strapping the bag on. Forgetting the redundant headset, he snatched up the flashlight and approached the Eastern floodgates. He could only hope that he could reach the Stinger before the man awoke.

The Eastern flood gates opened when he typed in the codes, but something had changed.

Whereas before he could have seen across the perimeter corridor down the Central Eastern Avenue, he was now faced with a set of closed wooden doors. He gasped and stared in bewilderment. 

Running across the perimeter corridor to the doors, he pushed, but they were locked fast. There was no code panel, so they must have been locked by a key. 

The adrenaline that had temporarily subsided, surged again in his veins - this man had a plan.

He turned around to assess his next move. The Grand Atrium from which the docking bays branched off, were to the east, so it made no sense to travel along the long Northern or Southern Avenues. Instead he should go back up to the main Galley Level and travel along the Upper Eastern Avenue. Lucas remembered from the station plans that there were stairwells located around the perimeter corridor and so he ran to the left, swinging his light along the wall, until he reached the doors to the first staircase, and with relief they swung open.

Then his frightened heart sank.

The stairs only went down.

~ ~ ~

The next stairwell was some way further along the perimeter corridor and almost certainly also only went downwards to the administration levels. He shone the light down the corridor and saw that the Northern Avenue had similarly been blocked by closed wooden doors. He had no choice but to descend. This has to be a trap. Lucas momentarily battled with his instincts to not play the game. 

__

Don't play, can't win.

His only present advantage over the prostrate man was his consciousness, and not wanting to squander it, he set off down the staircase.

As he approached the next level down, he noticed a change in the acoustics. He shone his beam over the banisters of the stairs and what he saw caught his breath, for the lower levels were flooded. 

Lucas sighed deeply and swore under his breath, but he couldn't tell from his position if the water had completely submerged the next level, so with little choice or hope, he continued downwards.

He reached the third level doors with the icy stagnant water up halfway up his shins, and pushed open the doors feeling resistance, which implied similar level of flooding inside. As he entered the third level he gagged on the foul air. The once beautifully painted walls were black with virulent damp spores, only increasing the crushing crypt-like atmosphere. Yet survival only presented one option, Lucas had to continue.

Coughing he half ran, half waded round to the entrance to the lower Eastern Avenue and shone his lightbeam into the dark, dank corridor, but couldn't see the end. 

"Please don't let me die. Not now…not like this..." A prayer to a god he had no faith in passed his lips.

He started down the long avenue with feet so cold and slow they felt they were tethered, and his teeth chattered incessantly. Finally his lightbeam found the end of the corridor, and the wooden doors, as he so vehemently hoped against, were closed. 

Lucas felt his tenuous grip on control slip further as he stopped and stared at the end doors. They can't be locked!

Lucas splashed through the water up to them and took a deep breath and tried to open the slimy doors, but they would not move.

He snapped, kicking and pounding the door repeatedly in frustration.

"Come on asshole! I'm smarter than you!" Lucas yelled, and someone caught his cry in the frozen air. 

A muffled but distinctive sound of a door slammed somewhere above, and Lucas instantly regretted the challenge.

"Oh you clever boy Wolenczak…" he muttered under his breath.

He glanced around – what to do? He doubted he could return to the other end of the Lower Eastern Avenue in time to evade the man who had probably expected him to come this way, and now his antagonistic shout had confirmed it. The empty offices would only offer a brief refuge, yet Lucas refused to plainly stand and wait for what now seemed inevitable. He started to quickly retrace his steps through the watery avenue, swinging his flashlight from side to side at the doors. 

He paused outside one door: 'Ladies Bathroom'. There could be a number of options inside, so Lucas entered and tired eyes scanned the room. The sound of another heavy door closing echoed down the avenue. 

The man had entered this level. 

Lucas' breathing and pulse soared, pure panic swimming through his body. 

Hide or fight? The cubicles were useless against someone with boundless time and a psychotic will, so fight it was. The mirror could be broken for a shard of razor sharp glass but a crash in the black avenue warned Lucas that the man had descended armed with a tool. A heavy and effective weapon by the sound of the destruction he was wreaking on the office doors further down.

Terror muddled his brain and his eyes uselessly flitted about the room. There was nothing, _nothing _to help. 

Lucas looked down and chewed his lip anxiously, as an idea began to form. He placed the flashlight on a ledge before crouching down and running his fingers along the plumbing under the washbasins. The wall plaster was dusty and crumbled easily under his touch. 

Lucas tugged at a length of copper piping for the water supply, the rusty joints shearing away in part. 

He swore and pulled again. 

A door crashed and splintered like a felled tree, the noise exploding in the cavernous corridor. 

Lucas pulled hard and some of the clip joints gave way. 

Splashing in the corridor. 

He was coming!

Lucas yanked desperately – one last joint. 

He pulled and the pipe came away from the wall.

Lucas felt crushed by fear but willed himself to concentrate on surviving, out-smarting the man, leaving, and living. 

Bridger would be strong, Ford would never crumble. But then in a million years this would never have happened to the Captain nor the Commander. Lucas cursed his luck and turned off his flashlight.

Suddenly light, fuzzy and dim under the ubiquitous mould, flickered on in the Avenue. Lucas' eyes widened with confusion and the footsteps approached. He drew himself up behind the bathroom entrance in preparation, knowing he would live or die by his ability to carry this off. 

As the man approached, Lucas tensed his legs and arms, his numb fingers fiercely gripping the weighty copper pipe, with the heavy wielded joint at the far end. 

He was perspiring and damp clothes clung to his cold body. He breathed deeply a few times and then held his breath, afraid that the exhaled mist would betray his presence. 

Time slowed. Lucas hoped his heart would be strong and his hands wouldn't fail. 

He wanted to live. 

The footsteps were close, closer, by the bathroom and continued down the corridor. 

This was it - he had to do it now…


	4. Things get worse and more evil

The mini schlock-horror continues.

Many, many thanks to Teresa for her beta efforts; appreciated as always.

I rudely forgot to also thank everyone who has posted a review for this story. I wasn't sure if anyone would enjoy such a fic, seeing as it's so different from most things here, but _every_ comment is appreciated. Now for the 'scary' part.

WARNING: Rated PG13: there is _some _gruesome-ness below, so maybe look the other way of you're a bit squeemish.

~ ~ ~

Chapter 4: Things actually get worse and more evil…

Lucas stepped out and raised the pipe to take a swing at the man's back, but he hesitated and the man, hearing him step out, swung swiftly around to face Lucas. They locked eyes and Lucas, realising that his only chance to live was about to vanish in the snap of a heartbeat, swung the pipe. 

He was aiming for the man's chest, but the man started to duck and the pipe hit in full force in the face, his nose collapsing as did his left eye socket. He grunted and stumbled back, but it was Lucas who cried out in horror. Blood streamed from the man's shattered face but he didn't fall. Instead he hoisted the rusty axe in retaliation, arms pulled back to take another swing at the terrified boy. Lucas thought he was going to pass out from the madness but seeing the impending danger clumsily swung the pipe again. It hit the man on the shoulder and this time the man cried out, swearing and spitting.

Lucas stepped back and raised a hand.

'Wait! Stop! I just want to leave…' he yelled but got no further as the man roared and twirled the axe high. 

Lucas ducked to the right and nearly tripped as the axe smashed into the water inches from his body, and as the man went to attack again, Lucas made a choice.

His copper pipe sang as it swung through the icy air, and silenced as it connected again with the man's soft facial features. 

Blood exploded from the man's eye socket and he bellowed in anger and pain. He hauled the axe up, but was slowed by his injuries, and when the axe sliced again towards him, Lucas floundered back. The man staggered and lost his balance, tumbling forward, still trying to grip the axe. Lucas took his chance. Once more, he swung the pipe with all his strength.

The heavy copper pipe sunk into the man's skull. He stumbled forwards, a furious expression twisted on his fractured face and crumpled to the floor, floating facedown in water discoloured by blood. 

'Shit…shit…' Lucas whispered. He looked down in revulsion at his hands and threw down the murderous bloody copper pipe as if it burned, watching it sink below the water. He bit his lip and struggled to hold back the tears. For a while, as the adrenaline subsided, he trembled in overwhelming relief and sickening horror at what he'd done, unable to tear his eyes away from the body floating in the water.

After the panic of the last fifteen minutes, the silence was stifling. Pulling himself together, Lucas looked up at the end of the corridor and remembered the locked doors; the man must have locked them. 

He had to retrieve the keys from the prostrate form.

He looked back at the doors and again down into the water. 

He tentatively approached the seemingly lifeless body. 

Have I really killed a man? 

He took another step towards him. 

He felt revolted by the sight of what was left of his skull. 

Another step and still no movement. Maybe he was drowning…

Lucas crouched in the freezing water and slowly reached towards the body.

Still no movement.

His fingers skimmed the man's neck to find a pulse but he had insufficient sensation left in his extremities to detect anything.

His hand moved down to the man's body seeking out pockets for keys, plunging his hand into the water to skim over the breast pocket waiting for the slighted reaction. He fumbled with the awkward position but couldn't bear to turn the man over – he literally couldn't face him. 

Lucas searched, swearing under his breath, frozen fingers probing.

He has to have them. 

Inside a pocket in the man's pants he finally found a bunch of keys. Lucas stood and in the dull light examined the large bronze keys with no indication as to the location of their partner door locks. 

As suddenly as they had sparked on, the lights extinguished, plunging Lucas into pitch-blackness. His chest constricted in this new fright and breath hitched painfully. His head flew around, eyes staring uselessly left and right, every sense heightened in his defenceless predicament.

The flashlight – where was it?

He recalled placing it in the bathroom and turned trying to gauge where and how far everything was. He stuffed the keys into his pocket and swivelled around. With his arms outstretched, Lucas stumbled around in alarm, hit a wall and ran his fingers either side to feel for a doorjamb. 

Where the hell was it? 

He almost fell into a room, fingers fumbling and stroking unidentifiable corners and edges. Cool vitreous china – yes, it was the bathroom – but the ledge, where was it? He swore as he splashed blindly further into the room and bumped into the washbasins. 

It was close – here…? Here…?

His hands scrambled feverishly over the ledges and slimy tiles knocking over old soap holders until, to his relief, he located the flashlight. Lucas powered it up, his eyes squinting in the sudden piercing blue-white beam bouncing off the mirror. He tried to calm his breathing, as he was feeling increasingly light-headed and quickly pulled on his backpack. But things took an unexpected turn for the worse. As he left the bathroom Lucas shone his flashlight around the Avenue.

The man was no longer there.

He wasn't floating in the water, not walking in the corridor. He was completely gone. 

'No' Lucas whispered as he bent over feeling sick. 'No, no - can't be' he said, the volume increasing. 'NO!' The shout exploded into a scream of undiluted fear. His brilliant mind reeled at the incomprehensible reality. 

He couldn't have walked away, his brain was pulped… someone else has to be here. 

He desperately attempted to rationalise the situation. Yet he hadn't seen or heard anything one minute ago, let alone one man hauling another's dead body through the watery tunnel. He stood stunned into immobility, legs almost buckling and eyes blinking rapidly, trying to process the situation, to grasp the enormity of the danger he could still be in.

In the dark, the sound of something enormous and heavy falling, tumbling down the perimeter stairwell intruded upon the silence.

Lucas's head snapped round, his heart skipping a beat and his mouth became slack.

What the…

His mind switched into critical preservation and he ran as fast as was possible in the water to the end Avenue doors, almost falling as he looked over his shoulder at the origin of the noise. Arriving at the doors, his fingers struggled to insert the correct key to let him though to the main stairs. The keys were all so similar, he stabbed them one at a time into the lock, uncertain if, in his panic, if he was trying the same ones again and again. 

He blinked back tears of fright as the far Eastern Avenue doors reverberated loudly at the contact of an unknown object being powerfully thrown against them. He looked back down into the blackness towards the perimeter stairwell, half trying to work what it was, and how in hell he was going to avoid it. 

He was so terror-stricken he almost didn't notice when a key fitted, and the rusty metal lock pins grated as it turned. 

With one last fearful look into the emptiness behind, Lucas pushed hard against the mould-covered doors, hinges rasping and entered the main stairwell. He shone his flashlight upwards in the sparkling blue glass well, and started his ascent out of the stagnant water up to the Galley Level. 

As he quickly climbed, he glanced in passing at the doors on next level up. He slid to a stop and almost dropped the flashlight. Bewilderingly, he could now see all the way down the Central Eastern Avenue again, and through to the lit Turbine Hall. But the Avenue wasn't empty. 

As if spectating, the dead chair-bound Dr Kimashoto was sat not far from the door, mouth still agape, and eyes staring into Lucas's light beam. Lucas started to hyperventilate, and again tears smeared his vision. His hand went to his mouth, smothering the whimper that emerged. He forced his eyes away and looked back up the stairwell. Up and out. He continued stumbling up the stairs, and had not gone much further before hearing the voice of a man from the Lower Avenue.

'WHOO HOO!' 

There was no joy in the cry, only a potent malevolence.

Petrified, Lucas swung his light beam around and back down but couldn't see anything at the door; over the banister still nothing there – _where was he? _Lucas still had time, still had a chance. He swivelled around and scrambled up the remainder of the stairs and crashed through the doors into the dark, colossal Grand Atrium, his footsteps resonating as he approached and passed into one of the docking port corridors.

Lucas ran, and as he ran, he unexpectedly met his shadow as the thousand lights of the Grand Atrium flickered on behind him. 

He didn't pause and he didn't look behind him. He kept running and saw, second to last in the corridor, the airlock to Bay 9 was open.


	5. You can't hear someone scream deep under...

It's been a while, but here's the penultimate chapter. As ever, I can't thank Teresa enough for her attempts to make this fic halfway decent, and what follows is still my own fault.

Many, many thanks also go to the lovely people who kindly reviewed and left comments; they're all greatly appreciated :)

* * *

****

**_Big Finale: No-one can hear you scream deep underwater_**_… _

Lucas charged into Docking Bay 9 and slammed his hand over the airlock close button, the door hissing shut infuriatingly slowly. He span around and ran to the sub, but as he arrived, he choked back a sob; the bloody copper pipe was placed carefully on the pilot's seat.

Eyes wide in fear, Lucas swivelled around mindful that it may have been put there by someone or something still nearby, but as he swung the light-beam around the near empty bay, he decided that he must be alone.

His fingers fumbled with the frozen catches as he hauled up the Perspex door, but he paused, staring at the pipe. He couldn't bear to touch it, nausea at the sight of the dried blood and hair matted at the end made his legs weak. Instead he climbed in awkwardly, stood on the seat and kicked it away. As it clanged on the metal deck, Lucas quickly threw his laptop and flashlight into the hold, fastened shut the Stinger door and flipped on the comms channel.

"Tim? Patterson? Anyone there?"

Silence. Lucas's heart clenched painfully with the swirl of adrenaline that pulsed through his body.

With increasing desperation he repeated his call.

"SeaQuest respond! This is Lucas at the Nambela-Swales Station…hello?"

Despite the biting cold, perspiration trickled into his eyes, and as he wiped his face he streaked his cheeks with the man's blood.

_Come on, don't lose it now_.

He punched the communications console desperately, trying different channels.

"SeaQuest open channels… Where the hell are you?" he shouted, panicking.

He couldn't leave the station without the launch sequence being initiated by someone either in the docking bay control centre, or remotely beyond the station. He was trapped.

Hiss, crackle and contact was established.

"It's gone 8:30 - did you oversleep?" Tim started to joke.

"Get me the hell out of here NOW!"

Tim paused. "Are you…?"

"Just initiate launching sequence for bay 9 right now. Do it!" Lucas's voice cracked at the end.

"Lucas – are you alright?" Bridger's concerned voice filtered through.

"Not really, no. Things haven't exactly gone to plan." Lucas said quickly, and glanced back at the window of the airlock. There was no one. "Some psycho's down here and he wants me divested of my limbs, so if we could _please_ just get this going, I'd really appreciate it."

He heard the captain take a sharp intake of breath.

"We're still over two hours away…I can scramble some fighter subs to help you?"

"There's no time, Captain! Just start launch sequence." Lucas's knuckles were translucent as he gripped the pilot controls in frustration. They seemed to be missing the urgency of the moment and he had to bite back his temper that was blooming.

He jumped when the bay sprang into action; a klaxon blared, yellow lights flashed and the voice of the bay computer issued a message:

"Warning all personnel in Docking Bay 9. Bay preparing for flooding".

The message, lights and klaxon repeated the cycle for over a minute, leaving Lucas grinding his teeth.

C_ome on, come on, come on_…

Finally the klaxon and computer warning ended. As the sluice valves opened and water started to stream into the bay, Lucas closed his eyes and rested his head against the controls. His heart pounded and his head ached, his body so, so tired.

_Nearly there, nearly going home._

Only moments later, his head snapped up at the sound of a heavy implement battering the door. There, in the flashing yellow light, he saw the broken face of the man behind the glass of the airlock window. Lucas stared in wide-eyed terror at the man's furious glare.

"He's here! He's at the door..." Lucas gasped.

The external bay doors would only open allowing the Stinger to leave if the water pressure within the bay equalised to the external crushing pressure of the ocean. Lucas sized up the airlock door and guessed the amount water that would be lost through the airlock that the man was now pounding, would be equivalent to the volume of water pouring in through the sluice valves.

If that airlock went soon, he wasn't leaving.

He could only hope that the airlock door held fast until the water pressure inside the bay reached a level that made breaking it down impossible.

The repetition of the axe blows punctuated the silence as the man continued to smash away.

"He's coming, Captain - he's going to come in!" Lucas whispered in terror.

"Hold in there Lucas, water level up to 20%"

Lucas could hear the captain's voice was heavy with dread and anger at his helplessness. If the man did gain access, Lucas was going to terminate the comms channel - he didn't want Bridger or anyone else to bear witness to his slaughter.

Lucas tore his eyes away from the impending disaster unfolding at the airlock to watch something floating in the water. The copper pipe swirled around and smacked against the Stinger. Lucas wondered darkly if the pipe was to be the instrument of his death.

_Oh the irony. Why else would it be here, in my seat_? he wondered vaguely.

He sat shaking and waiting, trying to estimate how high the water would have to reach against the door verses the inherent strength of the airlock fabric that was being tested beyond normal endurance. Not long until…

His thoughts were interrupted by the window of the airlock finally cracking and disintegrating as the man's fist punched through. The shattered glass floated in the water, winking in the flashing yellow light.

Holy crap. This was the end. He should have kept the copper pipe with him – at least he could have gone down fighting. But no, he was to sit here trapped in his little machine for the man to come and crush his life.

Yet, as Lucas watched, the man tried to fumble and reach the door control button through the window, but couldn't quite make it - his fingertips brushing too lightly against the pad. Maybe luck was on his side for once.

The man gave a roar of anger and the hair on Lucas's neck stood to attention.

"Lucas – what's happening? Are you still safe?"

"I don't know Captain. He's broken the window but can't get the airlock open. The airlock window is too small to stop the bay eventually reaching pressurised equilibrium – more water's coming in through the sluices than can get through that hole. I might be OK."

As Lucas watched, the man's bloody, swollen face stared at him and then abruptly left the window.

"Captain - he went away, he's given up." Hope blossomed in Lucas' heart.

Water continued to flood the bay.

"85% capacity Lucas – circa five minutes to go to launch."

Lucas strapped in, powered up the Stinger and started his pre-launch check.

"Lucas, I'm… what…". Tim halted, perplexed.

Lucas barely heard Tim conferring with the captain.

"Tim - what?" Lucas enquired, fear twisting in his gut.

"Lucas, the launching sequence has stopped. The commands are coming from elsewhere – from within the station." Tim replied quietly, trying not to alarm the overwrought boy.

Lucas blinked. Of course he wouldn't give up. The man was in the docking port control centre, and he wasn't going to let him leave after all.

Drowning in a claustrophobic fear, Lucas shouted.

"Tim you _have _to override it. Block it! Get me out!"

There was no response.

"TIM!" Lucas screamed into the Stinger's icy air.

"I'm working on it, Lucas, sit tight" Tim was obviously stressed.

"You have to stay calm, Lucas." Bridger tried to mollify him. "Is there anywhere you can swim out to and hide until the fighter subs get there?"

Lucas laughed bitterly 'What - _hide_?' He was incredulous. "I'm trapped! I can't get out – he's outside and has an axe that he evidently wants to get his money's worth. It's too late for hiding".

Bridger clenched his jaw. He couldn't imagine what had been going on for the last six hours. He shouldn't have let Lucas go alone, so far away. And now he may lose his precious, brilliant young protégé, his life catastrophically ended. Nathan curled his hands into a tight fist. There were no reassuring words he could offer – Lucas knew only too well that he was staring into the jaws of death. He yearned to snatch the boy up, to cover and protect his fragile frame with his, to keep him warm and safe, but he couldn't and it hurt like mad. He tried to brush away unbidden thoughts of Lucas' shattered body hidden, desecrated, cold. He would save him - anything else was unbearable.

"Lucas, listen. I am getting priority commands to open the bay doors, but I can't re-start the launching sequence to complete full bay flooding. I think that your only choice is to sit tight whilst we open the docking bay doors now" Tim suggested.

It would mean that the doors would be dragged open on a partially flooded bay, and the effects could be catastrophic, but Lucas was more than ready to take that chance. "Okay Tim, I'm ready for launch."

Lucas heard Tim typing for a few moments, until he paused and talked again to someone on the bridge. Tim returned to Lucas after a moment, his tone betraying barely controlled frustration. "Before we go ahead Lucas, you should know that the launching sequence has now been initiated in Bay 12."

Lucas stared unseeingly out of the Stinger into the dark bay. The man was going to force him to fight, and given the total abandonment of any rational behaviour he'd witnessed so far, the man wouldn't stop until Lucas was captured and quite likely dead. Lucas took a breath and struggled to remain calm and clear-minded in the face of such danger.

Suddenly the klaxon, muffled by the water, sounded again in the bay and the two bay doors started to open on Tim's command. Water surged violently into the bay, buffeting the Stinger hard. Lucas gripped the steering controls. There was a snap of metal as one of the three docking pin-locks, which held the Stinger in position until flooding should be completed, tore under the sudden stress of the ocean in the bay. The Stinger swung forwards but the two remaining docking-pin harnesses stopped her from spinning out of control. Lucas, winded by the sudden motion, had to release the sub from the pin-locks, afraid that the underside would sheer away. The Stinger flew crazily around in the swirling whirlpool of the bay as the ocean water crashed in.

Dizzyingly disorientated, Lucas fought to control the sub.

"Captain…it's gone - I cant…" he said incoherently, and yelled as the Stinger ricocheted off what - the wall? The floor? He couldn't tell.

"Lucas!" With his heart in his mouth Bridger called again "Lucas… respond!"

Eventually pressure in the bay equalised and the madness subsided.

Lucas steadied the sub, took a deep breath a struggled to calm his frantic heart and little boat. "Yeah…I think I'm okay. The bay's pressure has equalised but I don't know how much damage I sustained being bashed around". He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm going – the doors are fully opened."

"Good. Be careful Lucas – Bay 12 doors are opening too, although we can't monitor from here if any vessels are leaving."

Lucas powered forward, breathing shallow, eyes and ears straining to catch anything. Nothing. He continued forward slowly. Where was the man? He slowly gathered speed, piloting the crippled sub steadily away from the station.

Barely away from the port, Lucas felt the Stinger shudder as it connected sharply with something underneath. So, that's where his tormentor was.

The extent of the current damage caused by the ripped docking-pin was unknown, but the hidden vessel jammed hard again and Lucas fought to keep control. As he gripped the pilot column in an attempt to increase speed, the other vessel dealt a serious blow to the Stinger's propulsion systems. A warning message was issued and the control panel lit up.

_Oh jeez_…

"Captain – he's out here. He's rammed me from below and now I only have 30, maybe 40% velocity capacity - max." Lucas barely managed to keep his voice steady.

The Captain paused before replying.

'You're a skilful pilot Lucas; you have good responses, excellent intuition. Those are not reliant on speed and they're your best chance before the fighter subs get there. Look for his weak points, his vessel's shortcomings, catch him out.'

As Bridger spoke Lucas continued to struggle with the hidden vessel beneath him. He bit his lip, knowing the words to be true, but certain that if the man's craft was fast and armed, no level of pilot aptitude could save his life.

"Okay Captain, wish me luck…"

As he rose away from the docking ports, Lucas realised that the marble-clad Grand Atrium that he had run through just moments before, was roofed in a massive intricate glass dome, which now shone with the interior lights in the black ocean.

He pulled sharply left away from the man and twisted the little sub downwards to assess his assailant. The man was in an aged shuttle and Lucas watched him struggle to follow with inferior manoeuvrability. Yet, as soon as he was in position, the man's shuttle was considerably faster than the impaired Stinger. As the Captain said, Lucas was going to have to employ dextrous manipulation over blunt speed to stand any chance of surviving.

Lucas pulled the pilot controls up and swung in an arc round and above the shuttle, skimming close to the enormous Station walls, teasing the man as a cunning bird does a predatory cat. The man, in his rabid determination, clumsily followed the boy genius and together they passed again by the docking port bays and around the exterior of the Grand Atrium. The man gained speed and the space between them started to shorten.

Lucas scanned behind him, calculating his moves, the speed, the gamble he was making with his life.

The shuttle inched closer as Lucas, followed by the man, shot over the Atrium wall and glided over the brightly lit glass dome.

Lucas gracefully twisted up and slightly away and the man jerked awkwardly to match the new trajectory, and Lucas allowed the man to edge closer.

"How badly do you want me? Come on then…" Lucas murmured as he peered over his shoulder again.

He slowed almost imperceptibly and the man gained on his prey.

Lucas curled around and descended with the shuttle only a few metres behind, both crafts illuminated by the glowing Atrium light beneath.

Flying downwards, Lucas gripped the controls and held his breath – would the man continue to follow? Barely ten metres from the glass dome Lucas executed a sharp veer to the right, and in the words of one of his all-time favourite film characters murmured 'Dodge this'.

The shuttle - too late, too slow, too heavy to avoid the cataclysmic disaster, collided and smashed through the glass dome of the Grand Atrium.

Lucas switched the Stinger fast around to see the shuttle go into free-fall inside the icy stale air and explode as it connected with the Atrium's marble floor.

Only seconds later, the huge dome imploded, glass cracking and shattering soundlessly as the irrepressible influx of the ocean cascading in and quelled the flames.

Lucas, circling over the empty steel frame of the Atrium, yelled out and smacked the palm of his hand on the side of the Perspex hood in an eruption of relief and elation. As the stinger glided over the Station, he watched with a mixture of awe and sadness as it flooded and finally plunged into darkness once more.

He'd won; he was going to live.

* * *

Next time – the epilogue: _Phew that was a close one… Or was it?_


	6. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

Synopsis: Nambela-Swales, a deserted research station at the bottom of the Atlantic suddenly falls silent, its data streams cut off and unfixable from land. As the seaQuest is passing, Lucas is sent by a reluctant Captain Bridger to diagnose the hardware failure whilst the sub completes a trip to the Azores.

But the station wasn't completely abandoned; the violent death of a missing Japanese scientist and the riddle-making murderer still haunt the icy Station and when Lucas arrived, the man attempted to end his life too.

As he chased Lucas through flooded lower Station levels, the teenager fought back fracturing the man's face until he collapsed, but as Lucas tried to escape in the Stinger, the man again gave chase and was finally outwitted, blindly crashing his own sub through the vast Atrium glass roof. Lucas watched his foe's craft fall into the dark Station and burst into flames, quickly extinguished as the ocean poured into the structure…

* * *

Nearly forty minutes after leaving the ruin of the Nambela-Swales Research Station behind, the debilitated Stinger fell into the headlights of the two seaQuest fighter subs. Lucas, sitting slumped in his pilot's seat, straightened up and waved, calling through his radio and saw familiar faces return his greeting.

Bridger and Wendy waited in the docking area and watched on the monitor as the two subs towed the Stinger into seaQuest, waiting anxious minutes for the docking sequences to be completed.

When the airlock finally opened, Lucas trailed in, holding a rucksack in one hand and a blood-smeared flashlight in the other. He paused on the threshold and managed a wry half-smile at the Captain, his face pale and drawn.

'Hi' he said.

'Hi yourself young man' Bridger replied. He approached and held Lucas by his upper arms as he looked him over.

'How badly are you hurt?' he asked, concerned.

'Not really' Lucas replied. 'Just tired. I'd really just like to shower and crash, if that's okay. Can we leave the talking until tomorrow?'

'You're not doing anything until you've had a full medical check up' Wendy interjected, and glanced over Lucas, 'there's blood all over you.'

Lucas shook his head 'It isn't mine, I'm alright, really.'

Wendy gently ran her hands over his face and head, scanning for injuries and made Lucas lift up his fleece and t-shirt.

Other than the bruising around his back, she conceded he would live until the following morning.

'Fine, you can go to your quarters, but I want to see you at the breakfast table eight O'clock sharp'. Bridger said and squeezed his shoulder 'I'm glad you're home. Sleep well.'

Lucas nodded as he picked up his rucksack and followed them both out of the docking area, saying goodbye to them at the maglev.

He stumbled into his room to find Tony flicking through a magazine on his bunk.

'Hiya Tony.' Lucas dropped his bag, kicked of his shoes and flopped into his chair.

'Hey, always good to see ya in one piece my friend. Although, you know, had our axe-wielding friend there managed to remove one or more assorted limbs, I know a lotta ladies who really go for that helpless guy stuff' Tony said sitting up.

'What – even decapitated?' Lucas asked bemused.

'Sure, if meaningful conversation ain't a priority.'

Lucas rolled his eyes but smiled at his roommate's attempt to cheer him up. Yet the taste of fear was too raw, and his exhaustion left him feeling irritable and emotionally fragile.

'I'm really drained Tony …' and said no more as his friend nodded then shrugged in understanding and went back to his magazine.

Lucas peeled off his clothes and stood under the hot jet, scraping and scratching at his skin, trying to remove the unmistakable aroma of damp mould that seemed to have permeated his hair and pores.

And as the water washed down his face, Lucas's mind started to lose its tight bind, and images of the past 24 hours strafed unwanted but unstoppable; Dr Kimashoto frozen and bound to his chair. The man suddenly appearing in the pool of the office light. The man's breath close on his face. The man shouting, lethal axe poised. The sound of the copper pipe connecting with his face, again and again. The man's broken, angry, bleeding face at the airlock door.

Lucas careered close to collapse, and in his tiredness, he struggled to pull himself together. He swallowed and rubbed at his face forcing the tears to stay back, determined not to cry for the life he nearly lost so violently. But overwhelmed by the memory of the terror, he sank down in the cubicle, drawing his knees close to his chest, hiding his face in shame as the water ran down his bruised back...

After some time, numbness started to envelope his mind and his skin became increasingly red and raw from the hot water. Yet he felt far from cleansed; he could still smell the cloying damp. He thought that he could see dark, dead blood under his nails and every time he touched his body, it left a new stain, fingerprints tainted with guilt.

Lucas shuddered, his spine tingling with the memory of the Station's piercing cold and stepped from the shower into the bathroom, wrapped a towel around his waist, and started to brush his teeth at the sink. He wiped at the steamed-up mirror and froze, his arm pressed against the glass, partially obscuring a hazy shadow flickering in the room.

Lucas's body suddenly felt like it was stretching with the sudden horrible tension. He couldn't move, he was petrified, stuck at the washstand with his eyes as big as the moon, looking at something that shouldn't be there. As he stared, it slowly disappeared under a new film of steam until the mirror was opaque once more. Gasping, trying to breathe with his constricted chest Lucas looked carefully, slowly over his shoulder, past the showers to the far end of the bathroom.

It seemed that he was alone.

As he couldn't believe his eyes when he thought there was someone there, he couldn't comprehend now, how there wasn't.

'No fucking way' Lucas mumbled in confusion around his toothbrush still clenched between his teeth.

In a blind panic, desperate to get out, Lucas threw on most of his clothes and barrelled out of the bathroom.

On the way back to his quarters, he started to feel faintly ridiculous and stopped to put on his shoes. Just as he was finishing, a frosty chill breathed over his damp neck making him shiver and glance uncomfortably around the silent corridor. Lucas picked up his wash bag and dirty clothing, and then he paused - where was his towel?

Vaguely puzzled, Lucas could only think he'd left it in the bathroom and started back to his quarters, walking quickly. Once back, Lucas placed his bloody clothes on floor, adding to the general detritus that seemed to drift continuously around the room.

Tony looked up at Lucas 'Feeling better?'

Lucas replied 'yeah sure' and climbed up to his bunk.

Tony didn't seem to know what to do, glancing quickly at Lucas but not saying anything further, he continued to read his magazine and eventually dropped off to sleep.

Lucas, however, did not and instead twisted and turned, tangling in his sheets, feeling increasingly restless, the light from the aquatube annoying him even though he'd always found it so restful before. He was torn between waking Tony to chat and going for a walk but in his agitation he couldn't decide what to do and tried to sleep. Lying on his side he looked at everything in their quarters; familiar things, his home. Yet every shadow was denser and darker than he'd noticed before and made his skin prickle uncomfortably, so he shuffled over onto his back and sighed.

As the traces of light wavered and merged on the ceiling, a patch slowly blackened and clustered in his peripheral vision, growing until an outline was visible.

Lucas stilled his breathing. It wasn't Darwin in the aquatube, it was the wrong shape and it didn't move like a dolphin, even a sleepy one.

He turned and alongside him within the watery tunnel, face as blank and empty as before, was Kimashoto.

Lucas's mouth dropped slowly open in horrified shock, and as his lungs filled for a yell of terror, Kimashoto blinked his dead unfocused eyes.

Lucas cried out and shook his head to find himself half-tumbling from his bunk. He pulled himself upright and sat up in bed eyes flying back at the empty aquatube and around the room trying to clear his head of the harrowing dream.

Moments passed where Lucas's breathing heaved, fingers wrapped tightly around the blankets and he murmured 'it was only a dream' over and over.

Shaken but relieved he started to slide back into his bed until his feet jolted at the sensation of something damp and cold under the blankets too. He whipped off his blanket and gasped when he saw that it was his missing towel.

'Huh?' Tony mumbled at the sound of Lucas jumping from his bunk.

Lucas shivered and stared at the towel, trying to think of an excuse as to why something he was sure he'd left behind in the bathroom earlier was now in his bed.

'Sorry Tony, it's nothing,' Lucas muttered, his hands clammy and heart palpitating. 'I'm just - uh…' but Tony had already fallen back to sleep.

Lucas rubbed his face. He certainly wasn't going to get any relaxing sleep with his mind so stressed, and after casting his gaze fruitlessly around the room for something to occupy himself with, he decided he wanted to speak to Bridger after all.

Bridger squinted at the boy at the door.

'Come in,' he said pulling Lucas gently by the arm to a chair, pulling another one up for himself. 'Couldn't sleep, huh?'

Lucas nodded. 'I just keep going over and over what I saw, trying to rationalise it, to make some kind of sense from it.' He described to the captain the body of the dead scientist, the mysterious man and his riddles, and his violent desire to end Lucas's life.

Bridger said nothing as he listened intently and with increasing incredulity to the unravelling story.

'Who was he?' Lucas said, almost to himself. He looked the captain in the eye. 'He wasn't just some guy holing-up down there. I mean...' and he trailed off debating whether to tell the Bridger about the uncanny way the flood doors opened and lights flickered on seemingly without instructions, and decided against it. 'I mean, how was he surviving in that cold with no water of food? He was crazy but beyond just madness crazy. I beat him round the head with the goddamn flashlight and smashed his face almost to a pulp. And then he disappeared. Just got up and left. Then he was throwing big, heavy stuff down the stairs and trying to break the airlock down, even with his head all smashed in…' Lucas' voice nearly cracked at the end, and he dropped his head into his hands. 'In the lower corridor, I thought I'd killed him, Captain. I thought I had killed a real, living, breathing man with my hands, beaten him to death.'

Bridger shook his head 'Lucas – you were fighting for your life, you had no choice. I shouldn't have let you go alone, unarmed. It was reckless and thoughtless of me and I'm sorry that I left you in such a difficult situation with no back-up.'

Lucas sighed and leant back in the chair 'I'll look through the database of Nambela-Swales scientists and see if I can work out who he might have been. If he wasn't part of a project linked to Kimashoto...' he paused. 'I dunno, maybe I'll never find out' Lucas shrugged and he thought over all the questions that could remain unanswered.

'Thanks for listening, Captain, I'll leave you to go back to bed.'

They stood and Bridger opened the door. 'If you still can't sleep come back and talk some more if you need to.'

Lucas nodded. 'I think I'll swim with Darwin for a while. I can't imagine I'll be able to sleep anytime soon.' He smiled ruefully and returned to his quarters with trepidation, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder, unable to shake off the uncomfortable weight that had been pressing on him since his return to the sub.

He changed quietly in his quarters and walked quickly to the moonpool tapping the water gently to call the dolphin round. Darwin nodded in welcome and nudged him as Lucas climbed in and started to swim cathartic, leisurely laps on his back.

After a few minutes, Darwin started to squeak increasingly impatiently until Lucas stopped and tread water for a while, reluctant to get out of the pool to switch the vocoder on.

'What?' he said, whilst making the questioning hand signal.

Darwin swam to the far end of the pool, looked at Lucas and dived. He resurfaced and swam back to nudge Lucas.

'There?' Lucas asked pointing and making the go-dive sign. Darwin swam off and back agitated. Lucas followed him to the end and saw that there was indeed something lying on the bottom of the pool and dived down to retrieve it.

He barely touched it before his heart pounded in shock. When he resurfaced he held the copper pipe in his hand in horror…

FIN  


I hope that you've enjoyed reading this even half as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Many thank yous to every single comment and piece of feedback that you have all left; they're each appreciated and treasured.

And of course a big thank you to my unwavering beta, Teresa1, I'm a lucky girl!


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